


Pylea or Dream

by maryperk



Series: Pylea verse [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 11:39:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2149353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maryperk/pseuds/maryperk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Small sequel to Pylea or Bust!  Fred dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pylea or Dream

One shot

_Fred cringed at the deafening noises that emanated from the courtyard. She wanted to run away to hide in her safe, little cave, but her new friend Dawn was completely excited by what was going on._

_”Spike and Buffy are kicking butt out there,” Dawn chortled from her spot at the doorway. “That’ll teach anyone to mess with the Slayer.”_

_Fred nodded in agreement although she wasn’t sure exactly why she did. It was times like this when she wondered if this whole situation wasn’t really a dream. Nothing was normal._

_”Oh, they’ve won already.” Dawn clapped. “That was fast. Let’s go.” She grabbed Fred’s arm._

_Once outside, Fred stopped in her tracks when the head priest was sucked up into a portal. She shivered in fright. Portals weren’t a good thing in her estimation. After all, it was one of them that brought her to this hell._

_”You ladies ready to go home?” Spike called out to Dawn and Fred._

_”Yeah, we are.” Dawn nodded._

_Just then one of the native demons stepped up, and it grabbed Fred’s arm. “This cow isn’t going anywhere. She can’t leave here. She belongs to us.”_

Fred woke up with a gasp. “That wasn’t how it happened,” she whispered. She looked around at the bedroom of her spacious Sunnydale apartment with a sigh of relief. 

There were many times since her return home that she dreamed about the battle that happened during her rescue from Pylea. The worst ones, like the one she just had, she dreamed she was forced to stay in hell. 

Fred was about to roll over to go back to sleep when there was a knock on the door. She got out of bed, and she went into the living room.

“It’s us,” Buffy’s voice came through the wooden door. “Someone’s here to see you, Fred.”

Fred quickly opened the door. Spike and Buffy stood arm in arm outside the apartment. Behind them stood Wesley. Fred smiled when she saw the tall, lanky Brit. She was happy to see him because he made her heart sing. She had discovered this when he stayed for a few weeks after her return from Pylea.

“I’m so sorry to barge in on you, Ms. Burkle.” Wesley blushed. The bundle in his arms wiggled.

“What’s that?” Fred asked when the movement caught her attention.

“This is Connor.” Wesley pulled back the blanket to show a baby in the throes of waking up.

“It seems the poofter’s gonna eat his own son,” Spike said. “Oxford’s here lookin’ for a place to lay low.”

Buffy handed Fred a glowing sphere. “Willow made this. It’ll mask Wes and Connor’s signatures from Angel should he show up in Sunnydale. Can they stay with you? He’ll be checking in with us first. That’ll give us time to move you.”

Fred looked at Wesley’s expectant face. Ever since she had met him, she thought he was the handsome. He had helped her adjust back to Earth after her return. Fred gave a tentative smile and nod. “Sure, that would be fine. I have plenty of room. Willow helped me get a job at one of the computer software companies, and I was able to get this really nice place.” Fred knew she was babbling. She stepped back to let Wesley into her home.

Wesley gave Fred a grateful smile as he crossed the threshold. He turned back to Buffy. “How long will that ball of Willow’s mask us?”

“Until she takes the spell off,” Buffy answered. She handed the ball over to Fred with a small smile. “Get some rest, Wes. We’ll head Angel off, and one of us will be back with supplies in a few hours.” She turned to Spike. “You think Clem’s willing to earn a few kittens?”

Spike gave a small nod. “Clem’s always up to earnin’ a couple more kittens.”

“Thanks, Buffy. Thanks, Spike. You don’t know what this means to me.” Wesley turned to Fred. “Thanks to you too, Ms. Burkle.”

“Please call me Fred.” The tall woman said with a shy grin.

That night Fred didn’t dream of Pylea. Instead her night visions were filled with the hot, sensual glide of flesh against flesh and the sound of Wesley Wyndam-Pryce’s voice whispering her name while he filled her body again and again.


End file.
